Too Dangerous
by JustANerdyGirl
Summary: In a world ruled by the dead, it is all about surviving... Or is it? It's been three months since the last time the Governor attacked the Prison and since Rick and Carl had their fight. Carl has never felt so distant and alone from everyone. One day he is out in the woods and meets something he would never suspect...


_**Hello my lovelies! I know I'm still working on my Doctor Who series, but I wanted to write The Walking Dead so badly out of excitement for season four! This story is one I've thought about writing since the Midseason Finale of season three. This story is about one of my favorite characters, Carl Grimes, and it takes place between season three and four. I hope you all enjoy it!**_

_It's funny how careless us humans can be. We let our guard down for a second and the next thing we know... Bam! Some psycho with an eye patch is tryin to kill us._ Carl Grimes was walking around the West Georgia Correctional Facility or more lovingly known as the "Prison". He and the other survivors of the zombie apocalypse had faced a newfound enemy known as the Governor only three months ago, and it appears everyone but Carl has forgotten the madman who drove off into the sunset.

Carl had been wandering around the yard most of the afternoon scowling at the small children playing without a care in the infested world. _I still can't believe we took in all these Woodbury people. They are from WOODBURY! As in the community that was trying to brutally kill us all. Ring any bells Dad? I still don't trust Karen. I understand the kids being here, but the old folks could die in their sleep and turn and kill us all! Supplies was already dwindling, and then we had to become a freakin' charity! What happened to family first?_

His mental rant was interrupted be Carol briskly jogging out to him. "Carl! Carl. Hi sweetheart, how are you?" She smiled at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. Carl immediately knew something was up.

"What's wrong Carol?" He sighed but stood a little straighter. Carol wrung her hands and a frown penetrated her features.

"I really hate to ask you this, but seeing as Karen, Tyreese, and Sasha are helping the old people, Daryl is taking stock, and the others are off on a run that leaves you. One of the elders, Peter, is feeling very ill. I need you to go out in the woods and scavenge for an herb called Feverfew. It is supposed to reduce migraines. It looks like a flower with white petals, a yellow center, and has leaves shaped a bit like pine trees. They're usually in groups so just grab enough to stuff in one of your pockets. I think I saw some growing around an oak tree on the way back from a medical run. You okay with that?"

Carl gave a slight nod and walked off to his cell in Cell Block C. _Thank God! Something to do._ He ran up the metal stairs to his cell on the second floor in the right corner. He had originally had a cell closer to his father on the bottom floor, but he had switched cells after their falling out three months ago. He grabbed his knife, its leg holster, and his trusty gun off their respective spots on the floor. He then glanced at the corner and sighed longingly at his Sherif's deputy hat that had been gathering dust. He and Rick have been having as close to a standoff as they can get since Carl wasn't allowed to help with the attack on Woodbury. After he got accused of killing for no reason, Carl had refused to wear his dad's hat as a sign of protest. _I miss that hat. I feel almost naked without it, but I won't put it on. I won't put it on. I won't put it on._

Carl began to silently chant as he made his way to the yard. He allowed himself a small smile at the emptiness of Cell Block C. The day they had cleared out Cell Block B for the Woodbury residents was like Christmas morning to the reserved teen.

He strolled to the medal wiring that kept the hole in the newly repaired fences closed and quickly undid it. As he sealed the fence once more he heard a small boy shout, "Hey! How come he can leave?" Carl rolled his eyes and waited for Carol to make the kid shut up before he left. Carl readied his gun in his right and prepared to grab his knife with his left as he descended into the woods.

_Huh no walkers. I don't like this._ Carl thought uneasily. He had been searching for what he assumed was about forty-five minutes and had yet to see a single walker. _Don't stress yourself out just find that damn plant._ He recalled what Carol had said about a large, ancient oak tree which he caught sight of in the corner of his eye.

"Yes!" He called out louder than expected. He immediately cursed himself and turned in a full 360 looking for walkers. _Something is seriously wrong. There are walkers in these woods all the time! Now there isn't a single one of them. _He grabbed two fistfuls of the herb and began to trudge back home. _Snap!_ Carl's head whipped around frantically trying to decipher where the cracking sound had came from. His grip unknowingly tightened on his gun.

"Aargh!" Carl shouted as something strong grabbed his neck from behind, he saw a flash of gold, and came face to blade with one of the sharpest knives he had ever seen.


End file.
